Post by Rick (Admin) on Aug 16, 2012 7:37:08 GMT -5
Our Past Is Our Future
Diane Armstrong August 16, 2012
Posted 8 hours ago
It was a cold, wet rainy day in October 1988 when it was announced that the last of the 250 Hollinger Houses was being torn down. Still covered in the familiar red and green roofing paper, there were just two left. Norah Lake lamented that we were losing a huge piece of our local history and we should do something about it.
Peter Beaucage owned the houses, but he wanted to build a shopping mall on the premises. I phoned Peter and he said, “Do you want them? They’re yours, but you have to move them.”
There we were: Two enthusiastic ladies who had never lived in a Hollinger House. Two neophytes who knew nothing about moving houses and even less about raising the necessary funds, obtaining permits from utilities or even where the houses would rest.
Letters were written to foundations and businesses asking for support. Barry Martin’s architects drew up detailed drawings of the houses. John Nora, a local contractor offered to deconstruct the houses and the best parts were stored in warehouses and garages all over the city. Meetings were held. More meetings were held. Many times in those first two years I was discouraged, but Norah forged ahead, dragging me along, but her enthusiasm never wavered. She made her vision my vision.
The project was not without controversy. While many had fond memories of living in the Hollinger Townsite, others declared it was time to get rid of the neglected homes as they were an eyesore. The lovely gardens had given way to fallen fences and peeling paint. Yet they were part of our history! We could show the house in its former glory!
By 1990, the Committee to Save a Hollinger House had been granted permission to reconstruct one building out of two, on the site of the Timmins Gold Mine Tour. While the tradesmen did their work, Norah and I scouted garage sales, storage sheds, basements and attics in our goal of furnishing the miner’s home as it would have been in the mid-1930s.
The Hollinger House was opened to the public in June, 1991 but we still needed some furnishings to complete the project. Through the media, appeals were made for specific items and the public came through with donations. In all, we toiled for four years before we felt the project was complete. We found dishes, clothing, curtains, bedding, toys and sports equipment - even a bucket full of real coal that sits beside the Quebec heater.
Except to escort Governor-General Romeo Leblanc on a tour in 1998, I haven’t been back to the Hollinger House. It has continued on as a popular tourist attraction. Last Saturday, August 11 as part of Doors Open Ontario, I was a hostess with my grandson Andrew as we gave tours to almost 60 visitors.
It was such a pleasure to tell the keenly interested guests about the 250 identical homes that at one time, formed a community within a community and to share the story of how Hollinger House was saved.
There were two disturbing notes to the day however. One was the persistent rumour that because of the new open pit mining operation next door, Hollinger House was destined to be demolished. Over the past few months, I had heard the rumours too, but told the visitors that every person in authority I asked, has told me the same thing: “No decision has been made yet.” That’s not very reassuring. It would be tragic if that important part of our history was lost.
The other disturbing note was the discovery that many items in Hollinger House have simply disappeared. There was once a large, wooden icebox (the fore-runner of a refrigerator) in the back porch with a pot of artificial geraniums on top. Where it once stood, are a wicker basket and a child’s sleigh. The donation book, all done in careful calligraphy, named all the donors in alphabetical order and listed the items they contributed. It’s gone too – along with many smaller items like sentimental collectibles and the blueberry rake.
I can see the small items being dropped in a pocket or a large purse, but how did someone walk away with a huge, wooden icebox?
That’s my view from Over the Hill.
www.timminstimes.com/ArticleDisplay.aspx?e=3600086
Diane Armstrong August 16, 2012
Posted 8 hours ago
It was a cold, wet rainy day in October 1988 when it was announced that the last of the 250 Hollinger Houses was being torn down. Still covered in the familiar red and green roofing paper, there were just two left. Norah Lake lamented that we were losing a huge piece of our local history and we should do something about it.
Peter Beaucage owned the houses, but he wanted to build a shopping mall on the premises. I phoned Peter and he said, “Do you want them? They’re yours, but you have to move them.”
There we were: Two enthusiastic ladies who had never lived in a Hollinger House. Two neophytes who knew nothing about moving houses and even less about raising the necessary funds, obtaining permits from utilities or even where the houses would rest.
Letters were written to foundations and businesses asking for support. Barry Martin’s architects drew up detailed drawings of the houses. John Nora, a local contractor offered to deconstruct the houses and the best parts were stored in warehouses and garages all over the city. Meetings were held. More meetings were held. Many times in those first two years I was discouraged, but Norah forged ahead, dragging me along, but her enthusiasm never wavered. She made her vision my vision.
The project was not without controversy. While many had fond memories of living in the Hollinger Townsite, others declared it was time to get rid of the neglected homes as they were an eyesore. The lovely gardens had given way to fallen fences and peeling paint. Yet they were part of our history! We could show the house in its former glory!
By 1990, the Committee to Save a Hollinger House had been granted permission to reconstruct one building out of two, on the site of the Timmins Gold Mine Tour. While the tradesmen did their work, Norah and I scouted garage sales, storage sheds, basements and attics in our goal of furnishing the miner’s home as it would have been in the mid-1930s.
The Hollinger House was opened to the public in June, 1991 but we still needed some furnishings to complete the project. Through the media, appeals were made for specific items and the public came through with donations. In all, we toiled for four years before we felt the project was complete. We found dishes, clothing, curtains, bedding, toys and sports equipment - even a bucket full of real coal that sits beside the Quebec heater.
Except to escort Governor-General Romeo Leblanc on a tour in 1998, I haven’t been back to the Hollinger House. It has continued on as a popular tourist attraction. Last Saturday, August 11 as part of Doors Open Ontario, I was a hostess with my grandson Andrew as we gave tours to almost 60 visitors.
It was such a pleasure to tell the keenly interested guests about the 250 identical homes that at one time, formed a community within a community and to share the story of how Hollinger House was saved.
There were two disturbing notes to the day however. One was the persistent rumour that because of the new open pit mining operation next door, Hollinger House was destined to be demolished. Over the past few months, I had heard the rumours too, but told the visitors that every person in authority I asked, has told me the same thing: “No decision has been made yet.” That’s not very reassuring. It would be tragic if that important part of our history was lost.
The other disturbing note was the discovery that many items in Hollinger House have simply disappeared. There was once a large, wooden icebox (the fore-runner of a refrigerator) in the back porch with a pot of artificial geraniums on top. Where it once stood, are a wicker basket and a child’s sleigh. The donation book, all done in careful calligraphy, named all the donors in alphabetical order and listed the items they contributed. It’s gone too – along with many smaller items like sentimental collectibles and the blueberry rake.
I can see the small items being dropped in a pocket or a large purse, but how did someone walk away with a huge, wooden icebox?
That’s my view from Over the Hill.
www.timminstimes.com/ArticleDisplay.aspx?e=3600086
They might find it in the underground tour area where it's being used as a seat. ;D